


Tabula Rasa

by ElementalGhosting



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Bullying, Deo and Wisp are pricks in this I’m sorry, Gen, Inspired by the webnovel Worm, Superpowers, Tommy breaks a mirror and I use lyrics from a corpse song asmr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:35:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27430585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElementalGhosting/pseuds/ElementalGhosting
Summary: As a guy with a shitty secret superpower, Tommy’s never had the best life. He goes out in costume to find escape from a deeply unhappy and frustrating school and home experience.His first attempt to get his name out into the world as a hero sees him mistaken as a villain, thrusting him into the midst of a turf war, an argument over unwritten laws of right and wrong, and a forbidden friendship so powerful it could split everyone’s world into two. As he risks his life for a team with some broken moral compasses, Tommy faces the dilemma of having to do the wrong things for the right reasons.It will all be worth it in the end, right?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	Tabula Rasa

I had been looking forward to the part of Mr. Playz’s history class the most, even if the subject itself didn’t particularly strike my fancy. It was finally the time of the year when we’d start discussing capes. 

Now that I had finally arrived in class, I couldn’t focus. I tapped on the top of my heavily vandalized desk, little echoes going through the hollow inside where I had put my books and binder. The cap of my pen hung off the edge of the wooden surface, and it took all of my willpower to not push it off and send it clattering to the tiled floor. 

I shut my eyes and willed for the clock to go faster, to skip to lunch and let this class be finally over. The topic of heroes was interesting, but the way my teacher was droning on about the great accomplishments of heroes in the 20th century made me want to stab myself in the chest with the very same pen that I was rolling back and forth across my desk. 

Twenty minutes to twelve.

Did only ten minutes pass? Really?

Mr. Playz was an energetic guy, always bouncing around the room like some sort of bright orange cricket. He was passionate about what he was saying, that much was clear.

He was the kind to make friends with his students, giving them an easy A in his class in return for them not critiquing his subpar teaching. He went by “Preston” instead of Mr. Playz, thinking it would make him look better in front of the literal children that he taught. As if they cared.

The guy liked to end class a little earlier than usual and chat with the popular kids, gave lots of group work so others could hang out with their friends in class, and had ‘fun’ assignments like movie projects and mock political debates. He struck me as one of the ‘popular’ kids if they became teachers, hence why he enjoyed speaking to them so much. 

He probably thought he was everyone’s favorite, and I suppose he wasn’t completely incorrect about that. Everyone loved the guy, and under normal circumstances, I would say the same, but a constant sense of paranoia can fuck with your sense of normality. I wondered how “Preston” would react if he heard  my opinion on his shitty teaching. Would it completely dissolve his self-image, or would he shrug it off as a peculiarity from the self-conscious kid that never spoke up in class because he was too afraid of sounding obnoxious?

I slightly turned my head, glancing behind me while trying to not attract the attention of a certain student that was bound to notice me. TimeDeo sat exactly two rows behind me, him and I separated by Purpled. 

Purpled wore the same eggplant-purple hoodie everyday, and I was willing to bet the bright color didn’t do any favors for the eyes of the people sitting next to him. 

Deo grinned as he saw me staring and shot me some finger guns. I quickly whipped back around, placing my head on my desk and squeezing my eyes shut with a tiny shake of my head. I knew the mysterious feeling in my stomach too well; I had felt it many times before, my overwhelming fear of Deo subduing whatever emotions I had felt at that moment. 

I glanced up at the clock. Twelve-fourteen. 

Sixteen minutes left. 

“Sit back down, I want to give you guys your homework,” Mr. Playz said. The class groaned, their appreciation of the kind teacher battling with their primal hatred of doing anything productive. 

Afraid of losing his position in his students’ good books, he quickly backtracked. “Don’t worry, it isn’t anything super hard or time-consuming. I bet that you could do it all right now! You won’t even need to take home anything over the weekend.” 

The purple guy behind me was summoned by Preston to pass out the worksheets, leaving me completely vulnerable to Deo’s menacing stare burning into the back of my head. 

The worksheet was a picture of one of the city’s top capes, a blond, nice-looking lady known as FalseSymmetry. A lie detector with a steampunk sense of fashion, she was the founder of a clothing line at the local mall and an extremely useful asset to the Hermits, L'manberg's biggest officially recognized band of heroes. The space under her photo was occupied by at least 10 blanks, the directions above them printed too small for my eyes to read. 

Preston cleared his throat, hushing the class. “Guys, the assignment is as follows: think about capes and how they’ve impacted the world around you. Make a list if you want, but it’s not mandatory. On Monday we’ll break up into pairs or groups of three and see who has the best answers. The best group I judge gets snacks or candy from the vending machines.”

There was a loud cheer from the students beside me, followed by the classroom devolving into chaos as everyone began to pack up their books, not wanting to work. The same brash, social kids as always circled Preston like a cult making a sacrifice. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, see you on Monday!”

Binder rings snapped shut, textbooks slammed closed, chairs screeched on the white tile as they slid out from under desks and the ear-piercing screech of the bell rang out as the class was piling out of the doorway, hugging their backpacks.

I looked down at my notes. I’d put almost nothing in my journal except for a some doodles of bees and some concept art for my future hero costume, plus a couple of names that I thought might sound cool. 

I just put my books away and closed my backpack, trying to be as quiet and quick as possible while getting out of the classroom. I veered towards the bathroom located in one of the sophomore hallways, almost crashing into a wall as I slid into the door and chose a stall, locking myself in. Unzipping my backpack, I pulled out the paper bag that contained my lunch: a simple ham and cheese sandwich. 

It took maybe ten minutes out of the thirty that I was given to eat before the footsteps and talking outside of the bathroom stopped, and I could finally take a small breather and relax. A peek below the partitions confirmed my suspicions about there being nobody else in the other stalls. I sat on the lid of the toilet and got my brown bag lunch to begin my meal.

Lunch on the toilet was a part of my daily routine now. Every day, I would sprint to a different bathroom and lock myself in a stall to finish off my food. It was the only way to make sure my stuff wasn’t stolen or destroyed again and I got extra time to do homework, so it was a win-win situation for me.

Whatever my genius plan might have been, I didn’t even have a chance to unwrap my food before the bathroom door banged open, rattling on its hinges. I froze, my mouth open wide. I didn’t want to make a noise or clue anyone into what I was doing, so I kept still and listened for the new arrivals to leave.

The voices didn’t sound very familiar, but then again I wasn’t listening very well. The conversation kept being interrupted by the erratic turning-on of the sinks and the loud whooshing of the hand dryers. 

There was a loud knock on my stall, making me jump and almost drop my sandwich. I chose to ignore the noise, but the person on the other side of the door was persistent. They repeated the knock, this time louder.

“It’s occupied!” I called, cringing as soon as the words left my mouth.

There was a muffled laugh, followed but a triumphant and gleeful whisper of “Oh my goodness, it’s Tommy!”

I heard another guy whisper something I couldn’t make out, followed by the first letting out a giggle and exclaiming, “Yeah, I got this!”

I stood up abruptly, the toilet seat clattering from the sudden movement. My uneaten sandwich dropped to the floor as I rushed to the door, unlocking it and pressing against it with my shoulder to make it open. To my surprise, it stayed put, meaning that something or someone had placed weight against it. 

There was a noise form the stall to the right of me, the sound of rustling plastic bags above me warning me just in time of the incoming danger. I looked up to see what was going on, only to get hit in the nose with a crumpled-up piece of paper. My eyes quickly adjusted to the fluorescent lights and I noticed Wisp, dangling a black bag over my stall with an evil grin. I desperately tried to fend off what garbage I could with my hands, but it wasn’t enough. The toilet paper, plastic bags, and lunch leftovers just kept building up and coming. 

He didn’t stop there. I managed to pull my glasses off just in time to see him leaning over the top of the stall with plastic bottles at the ready, these ones actually full of something instead of being empty like the rest. I pressed myself to the ground, holding my backpack above me to block the torrent of water, soda, and juice that Wisp emptied into my stall.

It ran down the back of my neck, soaked my clothes, fizzed as it ran through my hair and stuck it together. I banged my fist against the door again, but whoever was on the other side was bracing against it with their entire body to prevent me from breaking out. 

If Wisp was the one that was pouring the garbage on me, that meant the person on the other side of the door was the one and only Deo, the leader of their dynamic duo. Feeling a flare of anger at the realization, I shoved at the door again, the full weight of my body slamming against it. I didn’t accomplish anything new. My foot caught on a plastic bottle and I tripped, falling to my knees in the floor of the boys bathroom, slick with toilet water, juice, and shit that had just come from multiple garbage cans. 

I moved to the left, narrowly dodging a small, green recycling bin that would have landed rather painfully on my head. Plastic bottles and cans from different drinks were scattered around my stall. A half-full bottle bounced off my shoulder, skidding off my shoulder and landing into a dirty puddle before rolling into the next stall. The smell of the fruity drinks poured into my stall was suffocatingly sweet, and the other garbage that got stuck in various places wasn’t too pleasant, either. 

The door swung open and and I glared up at the pair of guys standing in front of me. Wisp and Deo. Wisp's signature light grey sweater under a pair of pastel blue overalls, coupled with his dark eyes, thin frame and chestnut brown hair, made him look like a stereotypical high school soft boy. Dark-haired Deo, on the other hand, had a muscular, sporty build he had developed as a member of the martial arts club and a sprinter on the track team. He was good looking enough to get the attention of many girls, and it wasn't uncommon to see him recognised for something-or-other in the school newspaper, whether it be an athletic or academic achievement. 

The duo cackled at my misery as I sat on the ground, leaning against one of the walls of my stall, fully conscious of my rumbling stomach and my ruined lunch. However, my attention was mainly directed on the faint roar of blood pumping in my ears and an urgent, ominous crinkling sound, coupled with a faint buzzing that wouldn’t get any quieter if I shifted around or covered my ears. 

I didn’t trust myself to open my mouth without saying something stupid or embarrassing, so I kept silent.

Carefully, I climbed to my feet and latched onto my backpack, which was hanging off the stall door. Taking it off the hook and pulling the straps around my shoulders, I slowly unlocked the door and peeked out, trying to survey the area outside of where I was trapped. The guys left, thankfully. I heard the wooden bathroom door slam shut, cutting off the sounds of Deo's loud, boisterous laughter and Wisp's quiet giggles. I was left alone, once again.

I approached the sink and stared at myself in the flimsy mirror that was attached above it. My blond hair was messier than usual, covered in scrap paper, stale food, and other things I didn’t feel like identifying. I wore a white tee with bright-red sleeves and a pair of tan khakis, all stained and smelling like a rotting corpse. I felt a drop of something foul run down my back and soak into my shirt.

Using a wet paper towel from the dispenser, I wiped my face off and blinked hard, trying to calm myself from the sudden adrenaline rush. 

Making eye contact with the reflection of such a pitiful, crying child filled me with anger. Anger at Deo, for being such a disgusting shell of a human being. Anger at Wisp, for following Deo around like a lost puppy and going along with everything he says to gain popularity points. And finally, anger at myself, for being enough of a moron to get caught in my safe space. 

In a fit of rage and seeing nothing but red, I slammed my hand against the flimsy bathroom mirror. It crunched audibly on impact. A shard of glass dug into my palm, picking up drops of blood.

My mind was racing and the stinging feeling in my hand was only getting worse. I tried to laugh, but the only think that came out of my throat was a strangled-sounding cough. Only five months into the 12th grade and I had already experienced some events that could scar me for the rest of my life. 

I was really fucking hoping it'd be different this year.

“ **SHIT**! ” I screamed, my voice echoing around the tiny bathroom. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes and it took all of my willpower to not let them freely flow down my face. “I don’t want to live like this! What the fuck do I do?!”

I’d been enduring this from the very first day of high school, years ago. The bathroom had been the closest thing I could find to a safe space. I had to choosea different one every day to make sure neither of them could find me, but it had been worth it for the peace and solitude I could get when I stayed off their radar. It had been lonely and sad for me, but it worked, and now I didn’t even have that.

I didn’t even know what I was supposed to do for my afternoon classes. I couldn’t go to English and Biology like this, I knew that. Wisp would be there, and I could just imagine his signature off-putting grin as I showed up looking (and smelling) like I’d just gone dumpster diving, which wasn’t too far from the truth.

The buzzing at the edge of my consciousness was getting worse. My hands shook as I bent over and gripped the granite top of the sink. I let out a long, shuddering breath, and let my mental defenses drop. For months, I’d held back, biding my time. Right now? No way. 

I shut my eyes and felt the notebook in my backpack come to life,  something straining to peel off the pages. I was the sun and they were the planets orbiting me, glimmering in my mind's eye as beautifully as the stars in the night sky. I could focus on each one, in turn, and pick out the details. The little bees I had doodled in my margins during history class had been awaiting my command to come to life since Deo and Wisp had first invaded my personal bathroom space. 

The bees responded to my thoughts and emotions, loudly buzzing near the bathroom entrance and trying to fit themselves into the tiny crack in the door. I clenched my fists in frustration, anger,  _ hatred _ for the pair of guys that have been making my life hell for the past year and a half.

I opened my eyes. I could feel adrenaline thrumming through my body, blood coursing in my veins. I shivered in response to the drinks and juices the duo had poured over me, anticipation mixed with just the slightest bit of fear. They gathered around me and spread out over the door, covering every nearby surface; servants designed specifically for my command, waiting for further instruction.

With one thought, I could send out this entire group of minature soldiers out into the school, directing them at specific targets or just the first things that move. This horde was under my complete control.

It would be so easy,  so easy to just go absolutely apeshit on the people in this horrible school. To draw myself a baseball bat and fuck Deo and Wisp up until they were both bloody little lumps on the pavement. They would pay for all of it: the vicious e-mails and texts, the theft of my projects and homework, the fucking rubbish bin that they had just dumped on my head. It wasn’t just them either. Other guys and a small handful of girls had joined in, thinking it would land them into Deo’s good books and get the attention of the most popular boy in our grade.

I was all too aware that I’d get caught and arrested if I attacked my fellow students, even if they  are pieces of shit. There is a giant team of professional superheroes and too many solo capes to count patrolling the streets and catching criminals every day, and I did not doubt that I would get caught in no time if I beat my classmates up with a bat that I had materialized out of thin air. I didn’t care much, but the thought of that big red “X” on my permanent record made me hesitate. Getting rejected a position as a professional hero because I wanted revenge on some kids in high school? That was daunting, but it still didn’t outweigh the anger and frustration I felt.

_I’m better than this. Stay calm, Tommy_. 

A pair of mental scissors sliced through the connections that I had with the bees, immediately severing them. I sighed and stared at my bloody handprint. 

I walked over to the bathroom door and stood with my back to it so nobody could stumble onto the scene before the bees dissolved into my notebook paper. 

I remembered the feeling of power surging through me, the little bees waiting for my command to come to life and ruin the days of those who have wronged me in the past. However much I wanted to, I couldn’t really follow through. Even as I trembled with humiliation and fear, the adrenaline almost completely gone from my system, I managed to pick up my backpack and head down the hall. 

I made my way out of the school, ignoring the stares and smothered laughs from the students that were just coming back from the cafeteria. I sneaked past the front desk with ease and caught the first bus that headed in the direction of home. The chill of early spring compounded the discomfort of my soaked hair and clothes, making me shiver.

_I was going to be a superhero_. That was the goal I used to calm myself down at moments like these. It was what I used to make myself get out of bed during school days, knowing I had to face the torment of my peers as soon I stepped inside of the old brick building. It was an insane dream that made all of the other dumb things that happen to me somewhat tolerable. It was something to look forward to, something to work towards, even though I knew that realistically it probably wouldn’t happen. 

It made it possible to keep from dwelling on the fact that TimeDeo, the head of the bully gang and one of my worst fears, used to be my best friend.

I violently shook my head to get rid of the thoughts of my bullies, instead starting to daydream about my superhero debut. I had practiced my art, I had gotten myself a nice sketchbook to draw in, and I had finally found a suspicious villain that could do with some investigation. 

It was time to do it. I clenched my fist and made a determined face, ignoring the odd looks I was receiving from the others on the bus. I’d go out next week – no. No more delays. This weekend, I would be ready.

The little voice in my head screamed at me to stop, insisting that I was making a horrible, terrible mistake that I will come to regret for the rest of my life. 

I giggled to myself, waving goodbye to the driver and jumping off at my bus stop. The dories closed behind me as I spun around, hugging my backpack as I began my slow journey back to the grimy apartment that I had rented with the limited money from my minimum-wage job.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, it was time for me to take action. 

_Tommy, are you off the deep end?!_

Well, bitch, I might be.

**_This can’t be me simping over Corpse’s music so hard I decide to put lyrics into a fic... of course not! Also if you’re confused, Tommy’s power will be explained better slightly later in the fic, as well as the powers of the various CCs that he ends up making a team with.  
_ **

**_Please leave a kudos or comment if you enjoyed the story! It really helps out the author :)_ **


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